


Moze’s Day Off

by StuckOnHelios



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Autofellatio, Clothes On, Explicit Consent, F/F, Facials, First Time, Futanari, Hand Jobs, Magic Cock, Masturbation, Mozara - Freeform, Peeping Zane, Plot Some Plot/Porn With A Little Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vault Hunters Have Needs Too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 09:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuckOnHelios/pseuds/StuckOnHelios
Summary: Moze needs a day or two to herself on Sanctuary. No bandits, no monsters, just her own room, access to a bar where she won’t get shot, and some private time to attend to her needs. When Amara walks in on her, she ignores the “private” part and seizes an opportunity.





	Moze’s Day Off

Moze had a lot on her mind. The monster who had nearly decapitated her on Promethea. The rides to and from Eden-6 as she tried to help Hammerlock and Jakobs as best she could. The complete inability to get a moment’s peace to herself.

Of course, she usually liked it that way. Non-stop action was kind of her thing. But would it kill someone to give her a break every now and then? She could get a nap in, or attend to...other needs. Like she was doing right now, with her pants pulled down to her ankles, her legs lifted high in the air, and her tongue straining to reach her own swollen cock, which she slowly pumped with her right hand while her left tried to force her hips closer to her face.

She had resolved to take a breather for a night or two on Sanctuary. Just a couple nights and maybe a day of having her own room, a bar close by that didn’t sell Jabber Piss and call it liquor, and all the vendors her heart could desire to bump up her firepower and fix up Iron Bear a little bit. She had gotten distracted on the whole “good night’s sleep” almost as soon as she had closed her door and laid down in her bunk, though. She hadn’t gotten off in, what, a few weeks? A month? Ever since she joined on with the Crimson Raiders and flown across the galaxy?

She laid there, her eyes closed, listening to the hum of the ship, for a minute. And another minute. Her pants began to tent.

“Fuck it,” she eventually snarled. Time to take care of business.

Unzipping her pants, and licking her hand, she began to work herself over quickly at first. She was already rock-hard by the time she began mastrubating, and she normally wasn’t one for romance, with other people or herself. There was a job to do. And dammit, she was going to do it.

As she watched the skin slide through her hand, though, an idea began to formulate. She slowed her pace a little, squeezed the swollen head of the cock, felt the veins ripple beneath her fingertips. What if…?

She couldn’t remember the last time she had been blown, and she had tried this sort of thing before with middling success. Her cock was above average size for her height, but nothing crazy. Still, she was horny, and getting hornier by the second thinking about trying to suck her own dick. “Kinky shit has it’s time and place, right?” She thought to herself as she shoved her pants down further and then used them like a handle to bring them up and over her head, thrusting her hips toward her face. She strained her head forward, getting her tongue to lap around the head a bit. But she wanted more. She wanted to wrap her lips around her own shaft. She wanted to take herself deep, feel her dick hit the back of her own throat. She wanted to...did she want to cum in her own mouth? “Maybe not, but fuck, this is hot,” she thought, and she continued to press her head forward, trying to take as much as she could.

And that’s the exact position Amara found her in when she entered the room.

“Hey, Moze,” she said, laughing, “you’ve got to check this out, Zane’s shooting the Gun Gun off in Moxxi’s and we’re all taking bets to see who–“

She paused, as she realized exactly what she was looking at. Moze also stopped, looking at Amara, the only movement in the room the gentle throb of her cock an inch from her face. Amara, taking it all in, breathed out slowly, before shutting the door behind her. And locking it.

“We should go–“ Moze begins to say, getting up, before she feels the sensation of being locked into place, almost like a hand is gripping every part of her. To her knowledge, she’s only been Phaselocked one other time, and that time wasn’t nearly as...enjoyable.

“No, no.” Amara smirks. “I think I’ve found something far more interesting to do.”

Moze gulps. Her cock throbs. Amara leisurely strolls over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, her fingers gently touching Moze’s ass, the backs of her legs. “Having a little trouble?”

“None of your business,” Moze grits out through her teeth. She was insanely turned on. This was also extremely embarrassing. 

“Oh, that’s not a very nice way to play. Especially considering you’re so tied up at the moment. You sure you don’t want any help?” Amara smiled and kissed the back of one of Moze’s legs. Moze nearly screams. “The way I see it,” Amara says, standing and taking off her vest. “You want a little company. Someone else to play with. Considering you’re trying to do a two-person job all by yourself. Typical Mozey.”

The pet name was new. So was this side of Amara. Moze was used to crushing shit into itty-bitty pieces with her. She was used to the hard side of Amara. The side that wanted to get punched in the mouth, taste a little blood. Not the side that was slowly taking off her shirt and dropping it to the floor. Amara’s siren tattoos swirled around her breasts, bright blue against her dark skin, rippling down her abs. She came back to the bunk, resting her arms on the backs of Moze’s legs and setting her chin on Moze’s ballsack, nearly pushing her cock right into her face. 

“Just a simple question, Moze: do you want my help?” As she said it, her hand reached around and stopped a millimeter or two above Moze’s cock. Moze could feel the heat of her hand, how the air moved different around it. She stared at Amara helplessly, before finally nodding.

“Good.” Amara grabbed her cock and began pumping. Moze’s eyes rolled back in her head at her touch. This was...this was better than she even could have imagined. She hadn’t made any assumptions on any of the other Vault Hunter’s preferences, because they were always doing a job. And jobs didn’t mix well with sex. Sure, she’d fuck most everything with legs if they struck her fancy, but there just hadn’t been any time for that. Not that she hadn’t thought about it. Like when she met Lorelei. Or Mordecai.

Or the Siren cooing at her while she pumped her cock directly in front of her own face. “Open up,” Amara says, pressing her legs down further than she could on her own. Moze realized then that the Phaselock had been dropped for a few minutes. She had stayed frozen in place out of sheer desire. She opened her mouth as her cock was pushed into it. She still couldn’t deepthroat herself, but her lips pushed past her head and clamped down on the shaft. She swirled her tongue around the head. Amara kept steadily pumping the bottom of the shaft as Moze worked the rest of her cock with her mouth, slowly bobbing her head on herself, feeling jolts of electric pleasure run through her body. Soft, quiet moans escaped past her cock. Amara growled and began to pump faster.

“You like that? The taste of your own cock?”

Moze’s eyes opened again and looked at the Siren, whose energy was cracking blue around the two of them, strands of her hair floating. She nods, her cock still in her mouth.

“You like me jacking you off into your own face like this?” Amara panted. Moze nods again, a muffled “mmhm” accompanying her.

“Do you want to cum?”

Moze nearly did right then and there, and Amara sensed it, slowing her pumping and trapping her balls in her grip. She eases back on Moze’s legs. The cock pops from Moze’s mouth.

“Amara, please,” Moze pleaded.

“No. I want to hear you say it.” Amara smiled wickedly above her.

Moze, the stubbornness, the grit, the woman who fucked Vladof douchebro asses for fun when she was still with the Corp, comes flooding back for a second. She furrows her brow and shakes her head. Amara grips her balls tighter, and Moze yelps, her eyes watering. She’s about to burst. She needs it.

“Say it,” Amara hisses.

“I—want you to make me cum.”

“And where do you want the cum?”

“I want you to paint my face with it like a little whore!”

Moze practically screamed as Amara lets go of her balls and furiously stroked the orgasm out of her. The cum shot off in streams on Moze’s face, into her hair and on her helmet, and into her mouth. Three ropes. Four. Five. Six. Her balls backed up for the last month, Amara unloads all of it directly on Moze’s face. Moze can’t feel her legs. She can barely feel anything besides her balls emptying themselves and her cock firing off, the warmth of her own cum on her face and the brine of her own semen in her mouth. Finally, the orgasm subsides, and the two women stay there for a moment, panting. Moze, almost involuntarily, swallows what’s landed in her mouth, and then chuckles.

“So, was it…was it good for you?” She managed to joke. Amara laughs, her head rested on Moze’s leg.

“It was pretty good, I have to say.” She finally lets Moze’s legs down and straddles her. To Moze’s surprise, she leans down and kisses her, Amara biting the hell out of her bottom lip, and before pulling away, licks a little bit of Moze’s cum off of her cheek and dangles it over her mouth before slurping it up herself. “Holy fuck,” Moze thought. “This bitch is crazy. I could get used to this.”

“An excellent show, I must say, girls. Although possibly a wee bit one-sided.” Moze sat bolt upright as she hears Zane’s voice. He’s sitting across the room, drinking lazily, and smirking. 

“YOU SON OF A–“ Moze yells while she manages to find the closest gun to her, before firing off a couple rounds from the Hyperion shotgun at the Irish spy. As she brings the gun around, Zane simply smiles and waves goodbye, bringing up his Digiclone controller. Moze hits him square in the chest with the shotgun, but Zane’s already gone. His clone lingers in the same position for a few seconds, before he vanishes, too.

“Stupid, cocky, sneaky, Zaford-drinking–“ Moze stomps around and curses, cum still all over herself. “Didn’t you lock the door?!”

Amara is laughing. “I did, but you know Zane can get anywhere he wants.” Her laugh fills the room, loud, bright, and slightly discordant, like windchimes. “C’mon, lighten up. He’s harmless. You know it.”

Moze did know. Well, at least she thought she knew. All she really knew about Zane was that she didn’t know what he was into, outside of messing with people. Still, she had gone longer than 15 minutes without being angry at something, so she was resolved upon being pissed. “Whatever,” she muttered, wiping off some of the cum on her face with the back of her arm.

“Want something to take your mind off of it?” Moze looked over and realized Amara has taken off her boots and pants. The tattoos continued down her lean, muscly thighs, and her siren energy continued to crackle. She was sitting upright, looking at Moze, and stroking her own cock, dark and covered from balls to head with the same siren tattoos. Moze’s mouth fell open again. The thing must have been ten inches, eleven? How had she never noticed that before? 

Amara spit into her hand and continued to stroke the beacon of siren energy, her breath hitching slightly as she lazily drew the pleasure out. “It’s an ability I don’t use very often around here,” she said, the smirk returned to her face as she saw Moze studying her dick, considering it. “And if you take the rest of your clothes off, I can show you all the cool tricks it does.”


End file.
